


Wobbles and Wiles

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: F/M, Marriage, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Omniscient, Past Tense, Sex Toys, Smut, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-26
Updated: 2008-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-09 04:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...or, Five Things Ron Weasley's Parents Did That He Never Ever Wants to Find Out About.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wobbles and Wiles

**Author's Note:**

> I remember this was done for a request, may have been on Fic-On-Demand. The request was Arthur/Molly and sex toys. I had fun!

Arthur and Molly were seventeen they decided they'd waited long enough, and went for the real thing. The memory was mostly of laughter and failure, and they were both, especially Arthur, happy to forget it and rather remember the time a year before when he'd made Molly's breath hitch and her body arch at the back of an abandoned Muggle artifact called "car". They'd sneaked away to see it, and the opportunity had just been too good to miss. They'd kept the vehicle, and Arthur had repaired it, after a fashion. As for sex, they got better at it, and the first year after was a riot of hot splashy fun, at least whenever they could sneak away together.

At thirty and a year or two, they had a fresh baby in the cot, and sex had just about been forgotten, Arthur fussing over what damage Molly might have had (though Billy had come out easy as anything) and Molly herself rather caught up with the congratulations and visits, not to mention the strain it put on both of them to take care of the baby. Molly had quit her job, and started keeping an immaculate house, so Arthur felt downright guilty for sneaking off to work for a rest. Then one afternoon, the baby asleep after feeding, Arthur was hanging up his coat when Molly came up to him and kissed him rather thoroughly. They stood at the doorway, wrapped up in each other, until Molly broke up enough to whisper in his ear, 'I'm not wearing underwear.' The flare of desire ran through him just as if they were teenagers again, and they raced each other, giggling and roaring, up the stairs and into bed.

On their first ten year anniversary they had somehow managed to dump all the little ones on more or less reliable babysitters and took a portkey to Paris. They couldn't afford much more than a modest room. They spent all day and long into the night walking, kissing, holding hands, doing all the sorts of things young couples do; they saw the Louvre, and the Maison d'Arts Magique, and went all the way up the Tower, clinging to each other somewhat in the heavy breeze on top, feeling vulnerable without a broom to hold on to. Then they went back to the hotel and unpacked some of the things they'd bought before the trip. They both laughed at the long pink thing Arthur had picked up from the Muggle store, blushing now though he'd felt rather intrigued at the store. Molly's big entrance was ruined by the fact that she needed Arthur to do up several of the zippers. In the end, they threw almost all the articles away, and made the bedstrings squeak out Champs Élysées.

It was 1992, and Molly had only yesterday stopped worrying about Ginny every five minutes. The wind was building up to a howling pitch outside, rattling the empty house. Arthur came in shivering with the cold to find Molly under the sink chasing a rat back out through a gnawed hole. 'I ran your bath for you,' she called to him, and cursed a little under her breath as the creature tried to bite the shovel she was poking him with.

Arthur made it up the stairs and out of his clothes a quickly a possible, and was standing beside the steaming water, shivering and contemplating plunging straight in, when he heard Molly come up the stairs. 'Hold on, love, you'll hurt your toes if you don't warm up a bit first,' she said, and as he turned she wrapped herself around him, soft and warm and utterly naked. 'Heavens, you're like an icicle,' she said, rubbing his arms.

Arthur beamed at her and called her Mollywobbles, and she chuckled and kissed him, and then giggled, because Warty Artie was poking at her belly.

'Rowr.'

'Meow!'

'Mamma mia!'

'Hotcha!'

Laughing (for they did laugh a lot, when they were alone together), they tumbled down onto the long-haired bathroom carpet and started kissing again. Arthur was still shivering a little but was beginning to forget it. Her mouth was small and wet and soft, and all her luxurious softness pulled him and Artie closer. He wanted to sink into her.

She touched his chin to move his face away, and tutted a little. 'Patience, dear. Let me rub you warm first.' She lay him down on the carpet. His smile, full of honest adoration, opened her heart as it always did, and she had to look away, to not spoil the game right at the start.

She ran her hands, full-palmed, up his arms, then down his chest, through the thin hair on his chest down to his belly, and down again to where it thickened. She lifted her fingers, until only her fingertips were touching, and traversed the path in reverse.

They'd done this often enough before that she still knew just when to lay soft strokes on his sensitive sides, and when to let her hands travel down to his thigh, down, and then up, and around Artie's base, around (gently) the underlying sacks, and up again, the whole length of him, and when exactly to turn the rub into a kiss. Right at the top of the third journey up Artie's folds of skin, she made the change from fingers to lips.

Arthur groaned as Molly deepened her kiss, pushing his elbows against the bathroom tiling, his head lodged between the bathtub and the cupboard. Molly pulled back, her own breath hitching, and looked around. 'Why did you stop?' her husband asked. His eyes widened when he saw her pull out a long pink thing from behind a stack of buckets.

She smiled a wicked smile. 'Ginny found this two weeks ago,' she said. 'I told her it was a bath toy.'

'Oh no,' groaned Arthur. 'We'll have to get rid of it.'

'Why? She's not here now.' Molly lay the thing on Arthur' chest. It was cool to the touch. 'You know what I read in Playwitch the other day?' She leaned in close. 'Muggles call it the male G-spot.'

After a few difficulties (the thing had to be warmed up in the bath, the massage oil had to be fetched from the bedroom, and Arthur had to stop giggling nervously), Molly had Arthur on his fours, presenting her with his red-haired bottom. Molly had to suppress a giggle herself. 'Relax your muscles, love,' she said. 'You're puckered up tighter than Narcissa Malfoy's ass.'

'What would you know about it?'

'Tsk!' She dipped her fingers in the oil and began to make circular motion at Arthur's opening. Little by little, he did relax, and, with one last heady giggle from Arthur, Molly's finger were in, widening their circle, opening him up.

'It just feels weird,' said Arthur, whose erection was nonetheless returning.

'We're not there yet,' said Molly. She lay a quick coating of oil on the pink thing, and without further ado and certainly no warning, pushed its tip in.

'Oh!'

'Hush.'

She applied pressure, and watched fascinated as the pinkness moved deeper in. A yelp of pain, or surprise, from Arthur stopped her. 'You all right, love?'

'Yes, yes. Pull back a little.' It was a very long article, this pink thing. Molly pulled it back an inch, and there was another strangled sound from Arthur.

'Does it hurt?'

'No, no. Oh my goodness. Move it, darling.'

Understanding, Molly grinned with delight, and did as she was told. She started off slowly, moving the thing gently in and out, in and out, picking up the pace, delighted to hear Arthur groaning in now unmistakable pleasure. She balanced the thing along her arm and moved her other hand down to play (always so gently) with the sacks below. 'Oh love, oh my dear,' Arthur kept saying between his moans. Molly moved her hand around his hips, grasped Artie and rubbed it. She'd never done it from this angle before, and soon had to content herself with grasping and massaging Artie's tip while she drove the pink thing in with half her weight.

'Oh Merlin, oh my stars!' Arthur, who was usually so quiet during sex (a wonderful trait in a parent), screamed as he came, gushing white over Molly's hand, the carpet, the tiling and a bit on the bathtub too. Molly laughed with delight.

'We are definitely not getting rid of this,' she said, pulling the thing out and dropping it in the sink. Arthur had flopped back on the carpet, so she climbed up on top of him, keeping her weight on her knees, and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around her, and she could tell he was shivering. 'You liked it?'

'Oh my stars,' said Arthur, who had liked it very much, but wasn't sure he had the constitution for another bout for at least a fortnight.

Molly kissed him again, and he pulled her closer until she had to put her weight on him, squishing her breasts between their bodies. After a while, Arthur reversed their positions, the better to pet her breasts, to kiss her neck. He moved his mouth to her nipple, later, and his hands to her thighs. She sighed and opened her legs, and his questing hand soon found an impressive wetness between. 'You liked it, too, I see,' he said, and she giggled, and he returned to her nipple, and to her wetness. For a while he mimicked her earlier technique in moving his finger in a circular motion just inside her opening, then he moved it out and a little up and in tighter circles, and Molly jerked and moaned and grasped his hand.

'Your tongue, please, my love,' she said, flushed and heady. Arthur nodded, looking up in her eyes across her delicious length - or shortness - with a look of deep adoration. He lifted her legs and put them up on his shoulders, and pushed his nose deep in the fragrant treasure between. She was wide open, and he licked a long teasing line along the cleft before beginning. He made circles around her clit, circles within her, a deep plunge, and back to her clit, teasing it with flicks of his tongue. All the while she groaned and pumped her hips.

Arthur pulled back, and Molly locked her legs behind his head. 'Don't you dare stop,' she said.

'I'll just be a... Hold on.' Without releasing his head, he fumbled over the edge of the bathtub, and his hand came back with a rubber ducky. 'Remember where we first got this?'

Molly laughed with delight and released his head. 'I'd just about forgotten that wasn't just a bath toy!' After that she gasped and said no more for a good long while, because the ducky's orange rubber beak was nuzzled deep inside her opening.

Arthur knew it was supposed to vibrate, but to his disappointment he had never found out how it worked. A little spell had supplied the effect, though, and as his tongue returned its attentions to Molly's pleasure-nub, the ducky worked its magic inside her. It wasn't long after that Molly grasped the long hairs of the bathroom carpet in a death-grip, bent and cried and came in one glorious burst, almost as excessive a Arthur's on her own scale.

'Oh dear,' she panted, 'oh Arthur.' He moved up to kiss her with tangy lips. The two of them were sweaty and slightly sticky and not at all cold anymore. The bathwater had grown lukewarm.

Eventually they re-heated the water with a touch of a wand, and squeezed in together just like they'd squeezed several children in in the past. Molly sighed and lay her head back against her husband's chest.

'Feeling better, love?' she said with a slight self-satisfied smirk.

'Are you?' he asked, meaning the loneliness of the recently empty house. She gave him a glance and a smile and patted his cheek.

Later they had pancakes and sausages for dinner, just like they had first done 25 years ago.


End file.
